


Bells

by Detavot



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen, a bit of a look inside abberline's head in the past chapters, some fantasy fulfillment because i need abberline to meet r!ciel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 23:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18861250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detavot/pseuds/Detavot
Summary: What could one do when asked a question they cannot find the answer to?Lie, of course, and hope for the best.





	Bells

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry about the shitty characterization this is really not my best one

   Abberline put his head on his desk, body relaxing for the first time since the case of the victims of the Sphere Music Hall had started. His mind, however, was not so lucky. Thoughts were flying from one corner to another with astonishing speed, one of the (many) stress filled hazards of his occupation intensified by the almost too impossible secrets uncovered in front of his young yet weary eyes. The Phantomhives had twins. The twins disappeared for a month until Ciel Phantomhive--the elder twin--returned and retook the titles with a mysterious man named Sebastian Michaelis as a butler. Except that boy had not been Ciel Phantomhive. Except Sebastian Michaelis was not a certified citizen of the kingdom. The rest of the household was in no better shape, either; Abberline had researched whatever little he knew and come up with no files as to their citizenship except for Tanaka, an old member of the household present since before Vincent Phantomhive had been decorated. 

   At first he had thought that perhaps the imposter (Abberline hated using that word for him) had wanted to evade the taxes caused by his father and older brother’s death. It would hardly be unusual for nobles to hoard their riches, unwilling to let even a single penny slip from their greedy fingers, and Lord arthur had always told him of the Phantomhives’ endless appetite. It made no sense, though. That was just not how that boy worked. 

    _What makes you so confident?_ asked a voice so, so eerily similar to the boy who made his head spin. That was so much like him. Abberline could see him if he just closed his eyes. Sitting in a big chair, one leg on top of the other leaning back and looking up at Aberline with a smile so sharp Abberline worried it could break the boy’s delicate face. A sharp tongue, a cruel glint to his single eye, as dark and as deep as the oceans. Confident body language. A cup of steaming tea held with one hand while the other was held up as if he were holding the atmosphere and manipulating it as he saw fit. Perhaps he was. His words cutting into Abberline’s flesh and drawing blood. That was the entire point, was it not? Hoping Abberline would fear getting cut, hoping Abberline would just walk away. 

  That was not how he had been the last time, though. The boy had obscured his face with his long fringes, his hands shaking, looking hopelessly small with the too serious top hat and cape. Ciel Phantomhive had been the one to manipulate the atmosphere back there, and he did it so naturally that Abberline wondered just which of the twins was the most dangerous. Ciel would be the obvious choice with how he had single-handedly changed the atmosphere of the underworld, perhaps forever, in a single hour. And yet, the imposter had never once shown his face. The imposter’s hands had shaken, and yet he kept them at his side and never once let them stray to his gun. The imposter escaped captivity and left to gather his strength for what Abberline could tell was going to be a vicious fight ad, for once, Abberline could not decide whose side he should take. 

   Lord Randall saw this as the opportune time to shred the Phantomhive family. Abberline still did not know what had caused the man to hate the family so much that he fought literal children because no matter how shrewd and demented they were, they at the very least least had the faces of children and fighting against them publicly would give anyone a bad reputation. He wondered what could have happened that Lord Randall, a man who only kneeled to rational thought, abandoned all restraint. 

   It appeared that Phantomhives just thrived on madness.

   The young twin had had a very bad influence on him, it seemed, seeing as he was shaking with excitement as well as grief at some of the thoughts crossing his mind. His body fueled with adrenaline and his mind feeding more fire to the flames of Abberline’s once organised thoughts, he sighed and stood up from his desk. He went to where Blavat Sky was currently waiting to be transferred and leaned on the wall opposite to the cell. The faux fortune-teller offered him a lazy smile. 

   “What is his actual name?” Abberline asked. He knew he did not need to specify, after all, the criminal and he were similar in one way: They were both avid followers of the Phantomhive family. Perhaps more than one way, Aberline thought as he remembered how he had used the young Phantomhive as a weapon to solve the Sphere Music Hall case. 

   “You already know the truth, don’t you,” Blavat Sky stated with that voice of his. It sounded like an empty, gold can rattling against pebbles. It made Abberline’s head pound and his skin itch. 

    “I worked with the younger twin on the case,” Abberline confirmed and decided to lie just a little bit. It seemed to be the new trend after all. “I was fully aware of what he did and did not do from the beginning to the end, and used his solutions in my own report as the representer of Scotland Yard and the leash of the Watchdog.” Blavat’s eyes were hollow. A smile on his face, though it never reached his eyes. The gold stars on his hair refused to shine. 

   “ _Some leash_.”

   “Sacrificing a few people to stop the abuse and death of even more seemed like the best way. You did not make our work easy.” 

   “No, we did not.” 

   “The name?”

   “I was never given it. My only master is Ciel Phantomhive, I need not know any other name.”

   “Understandable.” Abberline uttered out the small, sweet lie and walked away. Fanatics. Lunatics. Those were what he was dealing with. 

   So, then, why not play along? 

   Abberline approached a coach and smiled kindly. “My good sir, I apologise for the late hour. How well do you know the Phantomhive manor?”

 

   Abberline had always wanted a family of his own. His fiancee shared his vision, and they aimed to start as soon as they could. But Abberline had always been with torn loyalties. His work was something he could never part from, he needed to make sure the streets were as safe as they could be for both his family and the rest of his citizens. His child, only existing in his thoughts for now, and wife were the people he could not part from, either. He had unwillingly always thought of the younger twin as his son since the first time they had been introduced. It had been inevitable, the parent within Abberline had seen the Earl as the orphaned child he truly was that very second. The child’s accomplishments as the Watchdog spoke of his talents, and the smiling faces of his servants and friends spoke for his caring side. It was inevitable that Abberline would get attached to the person who shared both of his loyalties.

   And yet, looking into Ciel Phantomhive’s eyes only made Abberline want to run away. Of course Abberline could see the genius behind the boy’s eyes, of course the twins were similar in every single way. And yet Abberline could tell instinctively that this was someone _else_ , someone whom he had never met. 

   “Ah, you are the officer from earlier,” Ciel said with a warm smile. Abberline wanted to flinch. “Have you come to take my statement? Or perhaps,” the boy’s eyes glinted in that familiar cruelty, and yet Abberline felt the foreign chill of it. “have you come to tell me my little brother has broken out?” 

   “Both,” Abberline answered. He heard the sound of hollow bells. His head pounded. Ciel ushered him to the dinner table set for three people, the gentleman with the long silver hair was already helping himself to his portion. _His visit had been expected_. 

   “You hardly sound urgent.” 

   “We all knew the outcome.”

   “What is your relationship with my brother?”

   Shards. Shards all over the carpeted floor. Abberline fought the urge to smile. “Merely business.” The cold air smelled positively foul. Both of the twins were dangerous people who should never, ever be put together. They would burn this empire to the ground just because they were bored and had nothing better to do in _such_ an uneventful afternoon. “I am not fond of inequality, though.”

   “He is hardly innocent.”

   “I agree completely, I just prefer all of the culprits punished.” Ciel smiled a familiar smile. It was refreshingly different. Abberline wondered what his life would have been like if the twins had come back together. 

   “I can see why my brother is fond of you… Underline, is it?” 

   Bloody Christ, they had the same awful sense of humour.

   “You flatter me my Lord. Now, shall we get to the business at hand?” Abberline did not touch the food or beverages offered during the meeting, and listened to the haunting tolls of the iron bell with a blank expression on his face.


End file.
